Dark Blue
by Burning 'Til There's Dark Blue
Summary: It started out with "Mini Probie" joining Gibbs' team. It started out as a serial killer case. It started out with 3 teams working one case. But when you're already living on borrowed time, you never know when you're next to go. Vengeance is bittersweet.
1. Prologue: Time's Gonna Warn You

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any show on Fox, ABC, CBS, NBC, USA or any other TV channel. I don't own any music. I do, however, own an iPod that has over 2100 songs on it, along with episodes from NCIS and NCIS: LA, House, Vampire Diaries, CSI: Miami and Bones, and the Twilight movie. Therefore, I win.

*~*~*

"_We have different ways of solving problems."_

"_Yes, you choose to ignore them." _

_~Æon Flux~_

_*~*~*_

_Time's gonna warn you with a whisper  
_

_What it wants to let you know  
_

_You can't live in fear of the things that aren't for sure  
_

_So stay alive by playing dead_

_~Clockwork, Autopilot Off~_

*~*~*

There are three kinds of people in this city.

First, there are the people who could care less about logic if what they do makes sense to them.

*~*~*

The squadroom was quiet in the early morning, just the four agents who were beyond exhaustion, trying to figure out why the Director had called them in so early in the morning – 04:00.

They got their answer a few minutes later, when Director Vance walked into the squadroom, leading a 20-something year old woman with ridiculously curly dark hair and blue eyes, and a deck of playing cards.

"Agent Gibbs, meet your newest agent. I want her to still be alive by the end of the day." Vance said, then walked away.

"Who are you?" Gibbs asked, looking at the young agent in front of him in confusion. She smiled.

"Elizabeth Michael. But you can call me Lacey. Everyone does." she answered. The other agents were surprised at the accent in her voice. "Director Vance assigned me to your team. Something about me being a probationary agent and experience and a whole lot of other crap that I didn't pay attention to."

"What's with the cards?" Tony finally got over the initial shock and spoke up.

"I'm borderline psychic." the girl stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Sure you are." Tony muttered, falling back asleep.

*~*~*

Second, there's the people who think their logic justifies walking into their best friend's house at 04:00.

*~*~*

Booth walked out into the living room, completely exhausted. He didn't know what time it was, and he didn't care. All he knew was that he had just heard someone at the front door and that he didn't want a random person stealing anything.

He walked around the corner, still struggling to stay conscious, and froze when he saw who was in his living room.

"Bones!" Booth shouted, startled that his best friend was sitting on his couch, reading, as if she lived there.

"What?" The woman in question looked up, confused.

"What are you doing here?!"

"The radiator in my apartment was broken." She explained, as if it was obvious.

"How did you get in my house?!"

"I used my key."

"Since when do you have a key to my house?!"

"Since my radiator broke."

Booth sighed, then walked back to his bedroom. Minutes later, he returned, dragging the blanket from his bed. He sat down on the couch next to Brennan and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, muttering to himself all the while that this was all ridiculous.

*~*~*

Third, there's the psychopaths.

*~*~*

**A/N: **Crossovers… they worry me. But anyway, I hope you like this. It's gonna be hell to write. But since I have no life… anyway, I'm going to warn you now that I go off onto tangents with my writing. And I use a lot of music. And I haven't written for Bones before, so if I mess up on anything, tell me. NCIS… I've gone overboard. This is gonna be a long story. Joy.


	2. Chapter 1: Isn't It Ironic?

**A/N: **_I'm doing casting here really quickly. Agent Michael is (in my mind) played by Eliza Dushku. Agent Kellan is played by Maggie Lawson. Agent Miller (He'll show up later) is played by David Krumholtz._

*~*~*

"_Alright. Ripley, when I give an order I expect to be obeyed."_

"_Even if it's against the law?"_

"_You're goddamn right!"_

_~Alien~_

*~*~*

_An old man turned ninety-eight._

_He won the lottery and died the next day._

_It's a black fly in your Chardonnay._

_It's a death row pardon two minutes too late._

_And isn't it ironic... don't you think?_

_~Ironic, Alanis Morisette~_

*~*~*

The sun was just rising over Rock Creek Park, casting long shadows across the still-cold ground. The birds sang their songs, oblivious to the elderly couple walking around the park, attempting to photograph the early morning scenery.

The woman walked towards the river, stumbling over something in the sand. She righted herself, then looked over her shoulder to see what had tripped her.

Her shill scream upon seeing a human skull, still wearing a Marine service cap, silenced even the birds.

*~*~*

"Our dead petty officer's a skeleton?" One somewhat confused Probationary Agent Elizabeth Michael asked in confusion, looking at the skull that was slowly being excavated. Tony rolled his eyes.

"No, Agent Michael. That's a broom. Can't you see?" he replied sarcastically, photographing the crime scene. He laughed quietly to himself, then looked at Elizabeth, whose face was blank with confusion.

"But how can a broom be in the Marines?"

"…It can't, Agent Michael. I was being sarcastic."

"Oh… but what...?"

"Elizabeth, do yourself a favor and quit while you're ahead."

"How'll that help me?"

"It won't. I'm trying to get you to shut up."

"Oh."

The agents continued to walk around the crime scene, trying to find one shred of evidence, which so far there was none of. Several minutes later, a very exasperated Ducky and an apologetic Palmer arrived, heading towards the skeleton by the river. The agents all turned to look at the recent arrivals.

"I must apologize, Jethro." Ducky said, looking slightly annoyed. "Mr. Palmer took a wrong turn and drove about 20 miles before he realized that he was driving towards downtown."

Gibbs just nodded.

"I found something. And I really don't know what it is, nor do I want to know." Elizabeth shouted, edging away slowly from something on the ground. Gibbs looked at her, frustrated.

"Well?"

"A tarot card. But there's a really weird drawing on it. Like… I honestly don't know."

Tony recognized what she meant and sighed.

"It's the Tarot killer. Time to call the FBI."

*~*~*

"Bones!" Booth walked quickly into the Jeffersonian, trying to look like there was a better reason for him to be there than a skeleton. The person in question looked up from the remains she was studying, raising an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"NCIS needs our help. There's a dead body in Rock Creek Park and it's a complete skeleton. They specifically asked for you, apparently. I didn't really hear much else because Chris started rambling on about something about statistical probability of a skeleton being found in a park and tarot cards and something about milking camels."

"Chris?" Brennan asked, understanding everything else.

"Christine – er, Agent Kellan. Everyone who knows her calls her Chris. Can we just go? I wanna see the tarot card and the body!" Booth was, at this point, nearly jumping up and down in excitement. Brennan smiled, then walked down the stairs of the forensics platform.

"Why are you so excited about this one skeleton? You've seen dozens."

"Because it has all the calling cards for one of Kellan's serial killer cases and I really want to show Chris up. Wow, that was hard to say."

"I really need to meet this woman."

"She doesn't use any logic at all. I don't think you two would get along."

"Your point?"

The two of them walked out of the Jeffersonian, still arguing.

*~*~*

The man walked away from the bed, where the body of a young woman lay cold and stiff. Quickly, he covered the edges of the room with gasoline, then stepped out the door. He lit a match, the smell of sulfur filling the air, and threw it in the room. In seconds, the building was going up in flames. He smiled, then walked out of the house, throwing down another Tarot card. The King of Wands.

No wonder people were such skeptics when it came to card reading.

*~*~*

**A/N: **First off, I have to say three things. One – Elizabeth and Chris have really weird world views, and anything they say makes sense only to them. Two – I'm horrible when it comes to card reading, but since it ties in to the story, I'm going to try my best. Three – The Tarot Killer is really hard to write, that's all I'm going to say. Anyway… crossovers seem easier to write before you write them. And my genius dad limited my computer time to 2 hours a day during weekdays because he found the parental controls. Damn the Apple store for making computer manuals that even Gibbs could understand. And lastly, I have to take the PSAT Wednesday, which means studying. Joy.


	3. Chapter 2: Turn A Blind Eye

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

And as to why the people who some wouldn't consider as important are the ones who end up taking center stage, it's because Palmer and Wendell are both awesome, but they don't get many scenes, and because Elizabeth and Ryan's sarcasm entertains me. Chris is just…Chris.

*~*~*

"_I know you have an innate talent for rubbing people the wrong way, Jack, but why for the Love of God would you aggravate the Vice President?"_

_~The Day After Tomorrow~_

*~*~*

_It's a bad trip on a sinking ship, when no one seems responsible ._

_Scapegoat to rock the boat, yeah, we need someone expendable ._

_Volunteers to face the fears, can we be sensible ?_

_And find a way to break the fall, find out the cure for all?_

_~Locking Up The Sun, Poets Of The Fall~_

*~*~*

A small crowd was now gathered around the skeleton, consisting of 5 NCIS agents, 3 FBI agents, 2 M.E.'s and 5 "squints". Every person in the group seemed to be annoyed in one way or another, mostly due to the very complex issues regarding jurisdiction over the case, due to the fact that not one but three different teams were arguing over whose it was.

An even bigger issue was the fact that all of them thought that they were right. Or at least the majority of them did. The youngest agents on each team were staying out of it. Or at least trying very hard to.

So now, the three leaders of the teams were facing off, backed up by the majority of their own teams, and in a very heated argument.

"We were here first and it's a Marine. It's our case!" Gibbs snapped. The two FBI agents rolled their eyes.

"It's a serial killer. And the body's fully decomposed. It's my team's case." Booth replied.

"I've been working on it for months _and _I'm the smart one in this argument. You people know nothing about this guy!" Chris interrupted.

"Chris…" Agent Miller cautioned quietly.

"Shut _up, _Ryan!"

"_You're _the smart one? You can't even get your computer to work." Booth snapped.

Chris responded by pushing Booth into the river, shouting something unintelligible as she did so.

The others edged away slowly, looking at the blonde FBI agent in fear.

There was silence for a moment as Booth climbed out of the water, dripping wet. Palmer suddenly broke the silence.

"Why don't we flip a coin?"

This sparked another argument regarding the fact that there were only 2 sides to a coin and that it would be completely unfair to rule one team out over another on a game of chance. Some of the other team members had joined in, leaving four people standing in mild shock at the behavior.

"I say we push them all into the water." Elizabeth finally spoke up. The small, non-argumentative group walked towards the crowd and proceeded to push all of them into the water.

The older team members emerged from the water to see Elizabeth, Ryan, Palmer, and Wendell all standing at the riverbank, somehow managing to look more mature than their bosses.

"While y'all were arguing, we solved it maturely." Ryan began.

"It's going to be a joint investigation." Elizabeth stated.

"And that means full cooperation from everyone." Palmer added.

"And everyone needs to be read in." Wendell finished.

"Are we clear?" Palmer quickly added onto the final statement.

The others just glared at them.

"Good. Now can you please do something about the skeleton over there? It's staring at me." Elizabeth pointed towards the skull, which was turned so that it was facing her.

More evil glares.

*~*~*

"Why are you all wet?" Abby asked as a dozen agents walked into the lab, all carrying boxes. They set the boxes on the table and pointed to Elizabeth and Ryan, who were the only two who hadn't managed to escape the wrath of the angry federal agents/scientists.

"The probies over there decided to take matters into their own hands." Tony explained. "And for some reason, they thought pushing us into a freezing cold river – in October, I might add – would be a good way to solve things."

Abby considered this for a second.

"Good job, probies." She finally said. "And speaking of which, who the hell are you two?"

"Special Agents and probies Elizabeth Michael and Ryan Miller." Tony said. "Ninjas-in-training."

"I'm not-" Elizabeth began, but was cut off.

"Shut up, Special Probationary Agent And Future Ninja #1."

"What the hell type of nickname is that?"

"Yours."

"I've known you for 4 hours and I already hate your guts."

"Good to know, Mini Probie."

"Again with the stupid nicknames!"

"Well, I can't call you Special Probationary Agent and Future Ninja #1 all the time. Mini Probie saves time. And plus, you already act like Probie over there… Mini Probie."

Ryan barely managed to keep a now seething Elizabeth from leaping at Tony, who was laughing hysterically.

"And this way, Ziva and McGee won't be the probies anymore either!" Tony continued. The other two agents nodded their agreement. "Isn't that right, Probie?"

Ryan let go of Elizabeth, releasing the psychotic ninja – who was now shouting in Greek – on Tony, who barely managed to dodge the attack and sprinted out of the lab. Elizabeth followed Tony to the door, then turned and walked back, muttering to herself about stupid nicknames and morons for coworkers.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, finally broken by the sound of several ringing cell phones. The three phones in question were answered almost simultaneously.

"Gibbs."

"Booth."

"What the bloody hell do you want?"

There was a pause, and yet again, almost simultaneously, they hung up the phone and started talking.

"There's another dead body."

*~*~*

He stood in the empty warehouse, in front of another lost soul, another poor human never to wake up again, and snickered quietly to himself.

These stupid people, with their narcissistic, naïve, unobservant ways. They would never find him. They would never see him.

He threw a match towards the body and let another card fall.

_The Fool._

*~*~*

**A/N: **Remember what I said about being horrible at card reading and being in love with Elizabeth and Chris's characters? This is more reasons why. And my dad finally fixed my computer time so that it doesn't kick me off after 2 hours. But I only have 2 hours a day on the internet now. Sigh. Oh, and obviously, I changed my penname.


	4. Chapter 3: I'll Attack

"_You're doing great!"_

"_I'm doing _EVERYTHING_!"_

_~Monsters Vs Aliens~_

*~*~*

_I won't suffer, be broken, get tired, or wasted _

_Surrender to nothing, or give up what I _

_Started and stopped it, from end to beginning _

_A new day is coming, and I am finally free._

_~Attack, 30 Seconds To Mars~_

*~*~*

The menagerie of slightly psychotic agents/scientists walked into the still-smoldering building, holding their breath at the smell. Brennan coughed as she made her way down the hallway, towards the room where two armed LEOs were standing, one still holding a fire extinguisher. The others followed behind, as she started a scientific ramble without realizing that she didn't have an audience. When the entire group was in the room, she realized her mistake and restarted, this time slightly less confusing.

"Caucasian female, aged 15-18, most likely suffering from some sort of eating disorder, based on the lack of bone density. Cause of death is most likely strangulation."

"You can tell all of that by looking at a burnt skeleton?" Ziva asked, raising an eyebrow. Brennan nodded, as if it was obvious.

There was a strange silence.

"I think that we're looking for a pyromaniac." Elizabeth suddenly said. Gibbs headslapped her in response and Ziva shuddered at the thought of fire. "What'd I say?"

"Are you just a moron, Mini Probie?" Tony asked, smiling as the younger agent rolled her eyes at the nickname.

"DiNozzo, just get back to work." Gibbs said.

"Yes sir."

It took over 3 hours to sort out the evidence. Seeing as everything had been completely incinerated, it was amazing that there was anything left at all, aside from the skeleton, which there wasn't much left of aside from the largest of the bones. The hands and feet had been completely destroyed, but luckily there were still enough teeth left to compare with missing persons dental records.

Brennan was staring at the skull, as if she could bring the girl back to life as a living, breathing teenage girl.

Someone broke the silence, but she didn't see who it was.

"Death shouldn't be this early in life."

Whispered agreements filled the room.

*~*~*

"Dr. Brennan, I… whoa." Wendell froze in shock at the sight of three separate skeletons spread across the under lit tables of the forensics platform. "These are the bodies we found today?"

"Yes." Brennan said, focusing more on reconstructing a shattered parietal bone than the conversation. "Not to mention there at least 7 other victims killed by the same M.O."

"That means it's a serial killer, doesn't it?"'

"Yes. Can you start reconstructing the occipital bone for me?" Brennan pointed to another pile of shattered bones, which was next to an incomplete mandible.

"I'm going to pretend that was a normal question and say yes." Wendell muttered, walking around the table to where the pieces of the skeleton lay.

*~*~*

Abby spun around at the sound of the elevator door opening, smiling as what she had dubbed her "Unbiological Family" walked in, shadowed by Elizabeth.

"I know who it is." She said, a hint of maniacal happiness in her eyes.

"Very specific, Abby." Tony replied, biting his lip to keep from saying anything else.

"There was DNA in that hair you found outside. What serial killer leaves a hair at a crime scene anyway? So anyways, I ran the DNA through CODIS, but it didn't turn up anything, so I ran it through Interpol. And I got a match!" The forensic scientist spun around and pointed at the computer screen. The other agents stared blankly.

"Abs?" Gibbs finally said. The person in question turned around slowly, the same look on her face.

"Yes?"

"It's in Greek."

"Well, yeah. I was hoping one of you knew what it said."

"His name is Demokritos Kazan." Elizabeth stated calmly. "Wanted by Interpol and the EYP for murder. He's living under the assumed identity Andreas Myron. He is also apparently suffering from paranoid schizophrenia, and was hospitalized for a short while until he escaped. It says that he believes he can see the future when he kills people, whether it's because of arson or strangulation or _sniping?_"

The others all turned to look at her, surprised and confused expressions on their faces.

"What?" Elizabeth looked completely confused. "What'd I say? All I did was read what it says up there." She pointed towards the plasma screen, where a paper containing large amounts of Greek text and a shadowy picture of a dark-haired man was displayed.

"You know Greek?" Several of them asked at once. She nodded.

"I was born here, but I lived in Ermoupoli until I was 11. Of course I can speak the language. I can speak Turkish and Hebrew too. Why is that weird?"

The others just stared at her, until Ziva finally said something in rapid-fire Hebrew. Elizabeth nodded and replied.

"Now I understand." Ziva switched back to English, nodding to herself. Everyone else just stared at the two.

*~*~*

Booth walked quickly onto the forensics platform.

"Bones! The NCIS guys found out the name of our serial killer and what are you people doing?"

The squints all looked up from their work. Hodgins and Wendell were both holding sledgehammers and wearing plastic goggles and aprons, while several artificial skulls sat on the table as well. Brennan was standing several yards away, gluing several fragmented pieces of bone back onto the skull, which was almost complete.

"Um… well…" Wendell stuttered, backing away from the table and pulling the goggles off of his face.

"We're trying to see how much force it would take to create a similar injury to our victim." Hodgins explained, pointing to Brennan, who held up the unfinished skull. "We were going to use watermelons, but we ran out."

Booth looked at the trashcan, which was filled to overflowing with crushed watermelons.

"Okay, I don't want to know. But the guy's name is Demokritos Kazan, also known as Andreas Myron, and-"

"It's actually a very ingenious idea." Brennan interrupted, carefully gluing the second-to-last piece of the parietal bone back to its place. "Watermelons have the exact same density as your average human head, unless the human in question suffers from hydrocephaly."

"Bones, you're hurting my brain here."

"You know, it's actually impossible for your brain to hurt. There aren't any pain receptors in the brain matter. It's the enlargement of subdural blood vessels that causes headaches. That's why they're able to perform brain surgery when the patient is still awake."

"Bones."

"Though I suppose that's a bad thing, considering that you couldn't tell if you had a concussion."

"Bones!"

"Yes?"

"We have to go find this Kazan/Myron guy before he kills someone else."

"Alright." Brennan stood up and jogged after Booth, leaving Hodgins and Wendell still standing there.

*~*~*

He looked at the card in his hand. Justice.

It was so ironic. All these federal agents coming after him when he had done nothing more than try and see his future with those women. And this one. The assassin. She couldn't remember him, though she had killed his brother. The stupid girl. He hated to have to do something like this. It seemed below him. But these people couldn't find him. And it was justified. She killed his brother. She killed dozens of people, all over the world.

He was seated in a car, at the edge of Anacostia Park, with a perfect view of the NCIS building's parking lot, thanks mostly to the sniper scope.

He watched as the five agents walked out. Lined the crosshairs up on the woman's chest, watched as she looked at the man standing next to her, smiling. The other woman, standing behind her, looked right at him, but couldn't see him.

It was now or never.

The shot rang out, and he watched as the woman fell, as the others tried to catch her before she hit the ground.

Vengeance is bittersweet.

He threw the card out the window and drove away.

*~*~*

**A/N: **Oh my God, I feel so evil. First I don't write for a month, and now I might have killed some one in this story! (Looks nervous) Review. And please don't kill me. (Grabs bulletproof vest.)


	5. Chapter 4: Someone Is Gonna Pay

"_You can't fight a ghost."_

_~Dollhouse~_

*~*~*

_There's something in your way_

_And now someone is gonna pay_

_And if you can't get what you want_

_Well it's all because of me._

_~You're Gonna Go Far, Kid – The Offspring~_

*~*~*

The other agents rushed to keep Elizabeth from hitting the ground, except for Ziva, who was standing in a state close to shock, looking from the park to the panicking group, hyperventilating, numb. Everything was in slow motion, no sound, strange sounding. Numb…

She noticed the sudden rush of other people, but everything was blurred, slow motion. The only thing clear was Tony and McGee struggling to keep Elizabeth from bleeding out, and Gibbs shouting angrily for someone to call an ambulance.

Ziva couldn't move.

She was suddenly aware of someone shouting her name as well, and a sudden weakness. She suddenly came back to the regular world, everything normal speed again, and she heard Tony over everyone else.

"Ziva…!"

She wasn't sure what he said, but she realized that there was blood covering most of her left arm and chest. And then, the sudden pain that radiated from her shoulder caused her to gasp in pain. She fell to her knees, keeping her right hand pressed over the wound.

Everything was dizzying, blurry. She realized that someone, no, two people at least, had their hands pressed over the bullet wound in her left shoulder.

She looked once more towards the other crowd, saw Tony and McGee step back as paramedics rushed over to Elizabeth. And then, someone lifting her onto a stretcher, whispering that everything was going to be okay, compared to the paramedics, who were saying something about her Subclavian artery being punctured.

Everything spun into darkness.

*~*~*

Booth didn't really care that he was breaking half of the D.C. traffic laws as he sped through downtown. The man, Kazan/Myron, whoever he was, needed to be caught, and the opportunity to show both NCIS and Chris up was too good to refuse.

Brennan, seated in the passenger seat next to him, was clutching her armrest and the handle above the window, with a look of complete panic on her face as he made a left turn from the right lane, cutting across several lanes of traffic, when the other road had the green light, narrowly missing a gray '85 Buick and a white minivan as he did so, ignoring the car horns.

Booth's cell phone rang and he answered it, still breaking every traffic law in America. "Yeah, Booth."

The silence that followed seemed deafening to Brennan, as she watched Booth's face change.

"Yeah, thanks, Chris." He hung up the phone and slowed down, then pulled over, still holding onto the wheel. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, lips moving in what had to be a prayer. Then he looked up, right at Brennan.

"There was a shooting outside NCIS headquarters." Booth muttered, quiet. "Agent Michael was killed instantly and Agent David is in critical condition at Bethesda."

"Was it…"

"They don't know. The suspect fired from across the river, from Anacostia Park. Two rounds. The first one hit Agent Michael in the chest, and the second hit Agent David in the shoulder and punctured an artery."

Both of them were silent, saying nothing.

*~*~*

Chris walked into the Jeffersonian, trying to figure out what to say. She had told Booth, but that was a different matter. He was a sniper, a hardened FBI Agent. These were real people – scientists, but still people.

Who dealt with death everyday, she told herself.

But it was Elizabeth she was talking about. The Probie agent for NCIS, who could have gotten to the top of the EYP had she stayed in Greece. The 26-year-old, who had tried to get a job at the FBI so long, had literally gotten on her knees to beg Chris to put a good word in with her boss, who had excelled at the physical and psychological evaluations, and after less than a year had decided that NCIS was a better place to work. Chris never did understand that, but it had something to do with a mission in Athens, where she had been trying to gather intelligence on human trafficking between the two countries.

She had met someone there.

As far as Chris knew, whoever it was had died.

And Ziva, the agent she had only met this morning, knew almost nothing about. She could tell that Ziva had been in love with the other agent, Tony something-or-other – it was an Italian name, she could remember that much.

She remembered being told that Ziva was a former Mossad assassin.

The woman scared her after that.

But Ziva had noticed evidence at the crime scene that nobody else had, noticed – according to what she had heard – something across the river. A glint of sunlight off the metal of a car, or the sound of a sniper rifle being loaded.

She stepped onto the forensics platform, and was glad that the "squints" were already there, as well as anyone else Booth and Brennan were friends with. And Ryan… poor Ryan, sitting there, at the back of the group, a look of confusion on his face. He had been in love with Elizabeth. That much she knew. God, this was hard.

"There was a shooting outside NCIS headquarters. Agent Michael was killed instantly, and Agent David is in critical condition. The prime suspect is Demokritos Kazan, also known as Andreas Myron." She paused to let the squints recovered, then spoke.

"I don't give a damn that we don't work for NCIS, that it's not in our jurisdiction, but this guy has killed too many people. I want you to find any evidence you can. Go over all the crime scenes five times, with a fine-toothed comb. If there is even a shred of evidence that you can't account for, I will personally beat each and every one of you over the head with a baseball bat. I want every public or private building or land in a 100 mile radius looked at. I want all the airports, train stations, subways, bus stations – hell, I want horse-drawn carriages to have his photo. I want this guy caught. Someone's gonna pay." She finished her speech, fire in her eyes.

*~*~*

Dr. O'Brien walked into the waiting room, no longer wearing the surgical mask and gloves that he had worn moments ago. The room was filled with a menagerie of NCIS Agents and employees, and for some reason, the Director himself. He knew them all, they had been here dozens of times before. This was harder than it should be.

"I'm sorry." He said, and watched as their faces fell. "Agent David developed an embolism as a result of the gunshot wound, and it traveled to her heart. She passed away two minutes ago." He turned and walked away.

*~*~*

The sudden wave of emotions that filled the room was felt through the entire building.

Abby cried out in grief, throwing her arms around McGee, sobbing hysterically as he tried to calm her down, despite his own tears.

Gibbs sank into one of the chairs, biting his lip, thinking about all the people he knew who had died before Ziva. And would die on their own time, one day.

Tony fell to his knees, his head in his hands, his entire body shaking with sobs. He couldn't understand. Ziva, so young, so full of life, his best friend, his partner, his lover, his _fiancée, _for God's sake, lying dead in some cold hospital room, because some man with a rifle was too selfish to let her live.

Ducky placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, trying to comfort him, praying quietly to himself.

Palmer had to leave the room, afraid of what they would say if they saw him crying.

Vance kept his face measured, blank.

Ziva David, 31 years old, only two years after being rescued from Somalia, after they had all learned of her and Tony's daughter, after fighting for so long, after finally finding happiness…

Dead.

*~*~*

He learned an hour later that he had succeeded. Sure, one other person had died, but why did he care? The other woman was Mossad, or used to be. Both of the girls had been NCIS agents. What did he care?

Every news station he turned to had his picture plastered over the screen, with emotionless reporters showing emotion for once.

And then, the words he didn't expect. That second woman, the one who wasn't supposed to have been killed, she had a daughter, a fiancée.

And he had made his way to the top of the 10 Most Wanted list of the FBI, NCIS, CIA, NSA, Homeland Security, Mossad, and the EYP. Not to mention every police station in the U.S. and Canada probably had his picture on it as well.

He laughed. Immature idiots.

_Wheel of Fortune._

*~*~*

**A/N: **I was crying when I wrote this. I didn't want to kill Elizabeth or Ziva, but I had to for the sake of the story. And writing Chris's speech… God, that was hard. And the entire NCIS group there… Oh my God, I'm gonna get lynched now. Please don't try to kill me until I find FBI-issue full body armor. If you want to read a happy story, one where Ziva is very much alive, please read _Iris. _This story is its sequel, but it seems more real to me. Please don't be mad at me.


	6. Chapter 5: So Tell Me How It Should Be

"_But I want to help!"_

"_I don't want your help, I want you safe."_

_~Up~_

*~*~*

_Something's getting in the way_

_Something's just about to break_

_I will try to find my place in the diary of Jane_

_So tell me how it should be_

_~Diary Of Jane – Breaking Benjamin~_

*~*~*

Tony walked into autopsy, staring at the two drawers, nametags taped over them - 117 and 118. Quietly, he walked over to the first one, listening to the automatic doors close behind him. He opened the drawer carefully, revealing Ziva's lifeless face.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "This shouldn't have happened to you, Zi. I'm sorry." He stroked back a stray lock of her hair, ignoring the tear that rolled down his cheek and landed on the metal slab.

With that said, he closed the drawer and stormed away, intent on finding the man who had taken Ziva away from him.

*~*~*

Chris could not drive.

The people who she had practically kidnapped in order to get them to help her find Kazan – Ryan, Hodgins, Angela, and Wendell – were sitting paralyzed in their seats, all silently praying that their psychotic chauffer wouldn't crash into an old lady with a walker or a kid who had decided to run into the street after a ball. Though they were mostly praying that they wouldn't be killed, as Chris turned so sharply that the car was momentarily lifted up onto the two driver's side wheels.

But it was hard to focus on driving when a serial killer had just killed two federal agents.

*~*~*

Booth leaned against the side of the car, occasionally cursing himself and several other people and inanimate objects, kicking the side of the car. Brennan sat in the passenger seat, watching him out the window with a look of utmost concern on her face.

"Shouldn't have happened," was all Brennan could decipher from the stream of nonsense Booth was muttering, which mostly included criticizing the Greek government, the U.S. justice system, sniper rifles, airports, minivans, bullets, hospitals, and doctors. And Kazan, obviously.

Finally, Booth managed to calm himself down enough to throw the car door open, get into the driver's seat, slam the door closed, and drive away from the side of the road.

"We'll catch him." Brennan said, unable to think of anything else to say. "And then you can shoot him, if you'd like."

"Sure, Bones." He muttered.

*~*~*

Gibbs stared blankly at Kazan's fake ID in front of him; the one Abby had printed out, with Elizabeth and Ziva's last words still echoing in his ears.

"_Is she always like this?"_

"_I made one mistake! I should not get in trouble for something that trivial!"_

"_I'll take that as a yes, then."_

"_What?"_

The hollow sound of the gunshots filled the rest of his memory. He sighed, looking over at the empty desk. It must be cursed. First Kate, then Lee, and now Ziva. Something told him Ziva wasn't meant to die. She simply got caught in the crossfire.

He felt the irony of the Director's words sting him again; _"I want her alive by the end of the day."_

Elizabeth shouldn't have died. Ziva shouldn't have died.

This was more than bringing a criminal to justice. This was pure, unadulterated vengeance.

For all of them.

*~*~*

"Car, _car, CAR!!!"_ Angela shouted, as Chris swerved at the last minute to avoid striking the green sedan. The others shouted out traffic warnings every five seconds.

"_GOOD GOD, ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US ALL?!" _ Ryan screamed, as the minivan narrowly missed crashing through a plate-glass window into a furniture store, in the process knocking over a mailbox, several parking meters, and a bench.

Chris said nothing, just tried very hard not to run over several teenagers who were skateboarding in the middle of the road.

Revenge had a tendency to cloud people's better judgment, on occasion.

*~*~*

McGee looked at the boxes on Elizabeth's empty desk, the ones she had never gotten to unpack. Out of curiosity, he walked over to one of them and opened it.

The picture laying on the top, in an old frame, sent him into shock; a younger Elizabeth, standing next to an older boy who looked enough like Kazan to be his brother.

Curiosity overtaking him, he walked to his computer and typed her name into the box that opened up.

_Michael, Elizabeth._

Her personnel file opened up, and he quickly went through the reports until he found the one he was looking for.

_Federal Bureau of Investigation – Official Report._

_April 17__th__, 2007_

He quickly scrolled through until he found what he was looking for.

_Agent Michael, in pursuit of Demokritos Kazan, shot the suspect's younger brother, Alexander Kazan, as the aforementioned suspect. Agent Michael assumed that Kazan had a loaded weapon based on the fact that Kazan was carrying his brother's unloaded gun, with the intent to return it, and shot him in self-defense before realizing that he did not intend to shoot her._

_Alexander Kazan's death has been ruled suicide by cop by the EYP and FBI._

He frowned at the report, then typed in Alexander Kazan's name. The autopsy report came up.

The same man as in Elizabeth's picture.

No wonder she transferred to NCIS.

McGee turned the computer off, then grabbed his gun and badge and walked out of the building.

If not for himself, then for the two people he had lost today. For the little girl who was going to grow up without her mother. For the families of the murdered girls. For all the people Kazan had killed. For Kazan's brother, who was accidentally killed all those years ago because of a mistake a Probie FBI agent had made. For all the people he had lost.

*~*~*

He should have expected when several government vehicles surrounded his house.

He should have expected the federal agents storming his building.

He did not expect to be half beaten to death by a psychotic blonde FBI agent, among several others.

He did not expect to be cussed out in half a dozen different languages.

He did not expect to have several people dragged off of him before he was placed in handcuffs.

If they thought he'd speak, they were wrong.

He especially didn't expect the same psychotic blonde to break out of the grasp of the people holding her back, then rush up to him and kick him – who the hell wore steel-toed boots anyway? – in the crotch.

He must have made a mistake.

_Strength._

*~*~*

**A/N: **(Wearing a bulletproof vest) Well, I'm obviously out of my writer's block. Is it good or bad that I already have a sequel planned for this? I love Chris's little scene in the last line. Her character entertains me. Anyway, I have… (goes to count) 2 chapters and an epilogue. I'm proud of myself. Normally, it takes me a year or so to finish a story, but I had this one all planned out in my head. And now I have a sequel planned! (Laughs evilly)


	7. Chapter 6: Needless To Say

"_I thought you'd be fatter."_

"_You thought I'd be fatter? Excellent. First words, perfect."_

_~Fringe~_

*~*~*

_If you never had it then_

_You don't know how bad it is_

_There is nothing like it, well_

_Needless talk then, I can tell_

_~Domino – The Goo Goo Dolls~_

*~*~*

Kazan sat in the interrogation room, staring at the window with a blank face, the hint of an all-knowing smirk on his face.

A dozen people stood in observation, shoulder to shoulder, most likely exceeding the amount of people that should be in the room.

Not to mention the four people who were about to make Kazan's life a living hell.

In Observation: Brennan, Wendell, Hodgins, Angela, Cam, Sweets, Ryan, McGee, Abby, Vance, Ducky, and Palmer.

Outside Interrogation: Gibbs, Tony, Booth, and Chris.

Kazan smiled again.

*~*~*

A common interrogation technique in NCIS was letting the less experienced agents interrogate the suspect first, to see if they could weasel information out, or, as many people liked to call the technique "Softening him up for the big guy/guns", with variations on the last word.

In fact, it was rare for more than one or two people to interrogate a suspect, unless for some reason it was absolutely necessary, i.e.; translations were required or medical help was necessary.

Rarely if ever would four people cooperate long enough for an interrogation.

Kazan's fate was going to be determined by the following people; 2 NCIS agents, 1 FBI agent, and 1 FBI/DCPD liaison officer.

All of whom were beyond livid.

*~*~*

The door opened and Chris walked in, glaring at her victim with burning blue eyes. Kazan was visibly distressed. So much so that several of the people in observation were snickering quietly.

On the other side of the glass, however, it was almost strictly business.

*~*~*

"Why did you kill them?" Chris asked, ignoring the usual Let's-find-some-way-to-trip-you-up-without-you-realizing questions.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Kazan said, his face expressionless, the accent evident on his voice.

"Liar." Chris snapped back.

"You cannot know that."

"You looked down and to your left, and the pitch of your voice changed. You're a crappy liar."

"I am not lying."

"Liar. Why'd you kill them?"

"I did not kill them."

With this last denial, Chris snapped, standing up so quickly her chair fell back and slamming her hands down on the table.

"_I KNOW YOU KILLED THEM, YOU FILTHY __SHIT-FACED __BASTARD! WE HAVE YOUR __DAMN __DNA AT THE __FUCKING __CRIME SCENE! WE HAVE EVERY SCRAP OF __FUCKING __EVIDENCE YOU CAN POSSIBLY THINK OF, SO STOP __FUCKING __LYING!" _The blonde shrieked, too mad to censor her language. Kazan blanched.

"Why did you kill them?" Chris managed to calm herself down enough to repeat her question once more, venom in her tone.

"They deserved to die."

"Nobody deserves to die. Except for you. And if it weren't for the fact that it's illegal to kill a suspect in custody, unless it's in self defense in which case it would be ruled suicide by cop, I would shoot your fucking face off, you stupid smiley bastard."

"I hope you don't mind me asking this question…" Kazan began. Chris rolled her eyes.

"No, go ahead." She said, managing to put more sarcasm in those three words than anybody would have thought possible.

"Are you PMSing?"

Chris said nothing, simply stood up and walked out of the room, muttering about stupid smiley bastards and suicide by cop.

*~*~*

Booth walked into the room as Chris left. He looked at the blonde in concern, but her expression clearly stated that she needed coffee more than words. He let her continue walking, then sat down in front of Kazan.

"We have all the evidence against you. It's useless to lie." Booth stated, much calmer than the previous interrogator.

"I was never lying." Kazan said coolly.

"Want to know something? We found your fingerprints. We found your DNA. The round from the gun we found at your apartment matched the rounds that killed those two agents perfectly. We have witnesses, and security cameras, and enough evidence that if we get into court, they won't even think twice before giving you the death penalty the next day."

"DNA can lie."

"Only if you have an identical twin."

"I do have a twin."

"Talk."

"I used to have one, at least. Alexander. And that little perfect angel of an agent, Elizabeth, she killed him."

"You're the one with the giant scar on your face. She wouldn't have mixed you two up."

"Your sweet little Lizzie gave me that scar."

"Don't call her that."

"Why not? She was married to my brother, after all."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Because Alexander is dead. She confused him with me."

"I looked into that. Alexander didn't have a buzz cut. Or tattoos."

"Yes he did. One. Of a butterfly. With her name on it. She has the same one, but with his name. And the year of his birth and death. Among others."

"He didn't have a tattoo of a dagger piercing a bloody skull with devil horns."

"How do you know?"

"The man had a butterfly tattoo. Somehow I doubt that he would have a tattoo like that."

"Many people have contradictory behaviors."

"What color was the butterfly?"

"Lavender."

"Then I doubt he had a tattoo of a murdered devil skull."

There was a brief pause as Booth stared down the smug-looking Kazan, who was starting to look more and more like Charles Manson on a good hair day.

"Why did you kill them?"

"I didn't."

Booth gave up and walked out of the room.

*~*~*

Chris sat outside Starbucks, her cup of coffee untouched, staring at the slowly dimming November light. She barely looked up as someone sat down next to her. Ryan.

"You okay?" he asked. Chris shook her head, taking a sip of her coffee. There was a pause.

"You loved her."

"She was my little sister." Chris said. "I don't care if we hadn't met until she joined the FBI. She was my little sister. She always tried to be the best and that's the way I treated her. She was always nice. She only hated people when they lost her trust. She was _light. _She shouldn't have died." Chris's voice broke with the last sentence, a tear running down her face. "And then all that shit happened in Greece, and she was just so depressed after it. I don't know what happened there. But she was too good for any of this. She shouldn't have died."

Ryan nodded, unable to say anything else.

"You didn't know anything about her until a few years ago, but you two were just… you looked like you were in love. You probably _were _in love, but I just didn't see it. And then all the crap in Greece happened, and…" Chris couldn't finish.

"You're right, Christine. You always are." Ryan stood and walked away, leaving the softly crying woman with her coffee and memories.

*~*~*

Gibbs walked into interrogation, and everyone in observation knew that something was wrong. Normally, he was the last to interrogate.

Kazan was screwed, regardless.

The former Marine sat down, trying to look calm, then looked at the smiling murderer and began to speak.

"Did you even know their names?"

"Whose names?" Kazan looked utterly confused.

"The names of the girls you killed. And don't give me this crap about not killing them and DNA being wrong. There's evidence, and your brother died 3 years ago, so just cut to the chase."

"I don't know their names." Kazan said calmly. "I would see them; walking home from school, at the mall, wasting their lives away. And there was no reason for someone to have a future when the present was being wasted. I killed them so that others could have a future."

Gibbs shook his head in disbelief.

"What about their families? Their friends?"

"Worthless."

"8 billion people, and you decide that those 12 girls were worthless?"

"Actually, one of them was a transvestite, but…"

Gibbs didn't waste his time anymore. He walked out of interrogation.

*~*~*

And one very angry Tony DiNozzo stormed in, lightning in his green eyes. He was unable to sit down, and instead stood behind the chair, well away from the murderer.

"As far as anyone is concerned, that was a confession." Tony said calmly. Kazan began to speak, but was interrupted.

"But before you sit there, smiling like a moron, I want you to know a few things." Tony pulled up a chair and sat down, glaring at the man across from him.

"One of the woman you killed this afternoon? She was the daughter of the Deputy Director of Mossad. A former assassin in Kidon. She was an NCIS agent for the past year."

Kazan gulped.

"There's more. She was my fiancée. We were going to be married in December."

"I didn't-"

"She had a daughter." Tony continued, ignoring the murderer, whose face had gone white. "A little girl, 2 years old. Iris Talia David-DiNozzo. My baby girl. And now that little girl is going to grow up without her mother, just because some egomaniacal narcissistic sociopathic bastard was too selfish to let her live. Or Elizabeth. But Ziva was my _fiancée. _And when you're sitting in a jail cell in Gitmo because we can't send you to Greece or Israel without risking the EYP or Mossad's involvement, smiling to yourself because you don't realize the sort of effect you made, remember that you killed someone's daughter, someone's fiancée, someone's mother, someone's best friend, someone's sister. And when you think that killing Elizabeth was justified, remember that she didn't mean to kill your brother. It's not my fault that you're a bastard. You're lucky you aren't dead, because every person in this building right now, and in Israel, and in most of the U.S. and Greece wants you dead. Personally, I think a lynching would be a good choice, but it's not my call." Tony leaned back in his chair.

"I'm sorry." Kazan muttered.

"Liar." Tony replied, then stood up and walked away.

*~*~*

**A/N: **Oh…my…God. I… I don't have anything to say. I am drained of emotions, words, and common sense.


	8. Chapter 7: How Deep The Bullet Lies

_"This day's black fate on more days doth depend: _

_This but begins the woe others must end."_

_~Romeo and Juliet, Act 3 Scene 1~_

*~*~*

_You don't want to hurt me_

_But see how deep the bullet lies_

_Unaware I'm tearing you asunder_

_Oh there is thunder in our hearts , baby_

_Is there so much hate for the ones we love_

_Tell me we both matter don't we?_

_~Running Up That Hill – Placebo~_

*~*~*

"The JAG lawyer's arriving in half an hour to take Kazan's confession." Brennan said, sitting down next to Booth, who was seated on a brick barricade, separating the clean sidewalks from the grass, which was several feet higher than the sidewalk and made a sort of bench. Booth nodded and Brennan sighed, looking at the sunset.

"I still don't get it." Booth finally said, after several moments of silence, just to receive a confused expression. "What would make a man like Kazan snap like that, and kill so many innocent people."

"He didn't think they were innocent."

"What did those girls ever do to him? To anyone? What did Elizabeth ever do on purpose? What did Ziva… never mind."

"Never mind? What does that mea-"

"She was a Mossad assassin. But she never killed anyone close to him. I doubt she even spoke Greek."

"Elizabeth did."

"That's why they sent her to Greece in the first place. She fell in love there. And she killed the man she loved, just because she thought he was someone else."

"You know what this reminds me of, in a way?"

"Hmm?"

"_Romeo and Juliet."_

"I don't get it."

"Alexander was Romeo. Elizabeth was Juliet."

"Elizabeth didn't kill her self. Alexander didn't kill herself."

"But think about it. Alexander was the brother of a murderer. Elizabeth was a federal agent. Alexander was cursed because of his brother, because he was related to Kazan. Elizabeth was meant to bring them to justice. There was a mistake, and her Romeo died. And Elizabeth was killed by Romeo's brother. It was Romeo and Juliet."

"It was _West Side Story."_

"Which was based off of Romeo and Juliet."

"You know what I mean. Anyway, Alexander was Tony and Elizabeth was Maria."

"Alexander was Tybalt."

"Shakespeare. Back to the movie. He was Bernardo."

"Tybalt."

"Can we stick to _West Side _for a while?"

"Fine. Explain."

"Chris was Maria. Kazan was Chino. And Alexander was Tony. He died in Elizabeth's arms, just like Tony did."

"But Maria never died. Juliet did."

"How do you know that Maria didn't die?"

"She blamed all of them for his death. It tore her apart, knowing that he could have lived. He thought that she was dead, begged for death. And she obliged, but then she realized who he was, and he died in her arms. She blamed everyone but herself for his death."

"Are we talking about Elizabeth or Maria?"

"… I don't know, Booth. I honestly don't know."

*~*~*

Tony didn't say anything when he walked into Starbucks. The barista recognized him, and handed him his coffee without saying anything herself. Tony nodded, then walked outside, straight towards the blonde FBI agent, who was still staring blankly ahead, and sat next to her.

Neither said anything for a while, and then Chris spoke up.

"There's something wrong with the world." She muttered quietly.

"Did you just realize that?" Tony asked, sarcasm evident in his voice.

"I've always known. That's why I became a cop in the first place. But still… what divine being decided that it would be fine for 16 girls to die by fire and water? For an innocent girl to be shot down by a sniper? For a 2-year-old's mother to be killed for no reason?"

Tony shrugged, closing his eyes, memories of Kate and Ziva's deaths flashing through his mind at hyper speed.

"You know, there's a part of me that wants to think that this is all a dream, that I'll wake up tomorrow, and Elizabeth and Ziva and those other girls will be alive, and that Kazan never resorted to murder, and that Alexander hadn't died. But the pain's too real for it to be a dream." Chris' whispered, her features caught in the sunlight, her blonde hair turning more brilliant in the fading twilight.

"I know." Tony said. "They all should have lived. Stupid family affairs. She shouldn't have died."

"Are we talking about the same people here?"

"Yes. No. Somewhat." Tony admitted. "Ziva and Elizabeth's deaths… they're ridiculously parallel to Kate's death, and Michelle's, and Jenny's."

"Do you mind if I ask who they were?"

"Kate was my partner. She was shot by Ziva's half-brother. Michelle was a probie, who let herself be killed for her little sister. Jenny died because of hired killers, because she killed the husband of the woman who hired them."

"Family affairs." Chris repeated, understanding.

"How do I tell Iris?" Tony asked both Chris and himself. Chris bit her lip, thinking.

"You tell the truth and hope she understands."

"Would it be strange if I said I had another idea?"

"No."

"Would it be strange if I said the idea was a tattoo?"

"No."

"Who the hell did you know who got a tattoo so that they could tell a story?"

There was a pause.

"Elizabeth and myself."

"I wish I could have known her better."

"So do I."

"I shouldn't have called her Mini Probie."

"She had so many nicknames that yours would just be another on the list."

"Like what?"

"Lacey. Lizzie. Ellie. Beth. Eliza. Liza. Betty. Blue. _Mini Probie_."

"The nickname fit her."

"I'll never understand that."

"Probably."

There was another pause.

"I don't want to be part of the FBI anymore." Chris said. "I don't want to be a liaison anymore. I just want to be part of one team for once."

"Talk to Vance."

"I will."

"I think I'm going to get that tattoo now."

*~*~*

He looked at the blank paper in front of him, pen gripped tightly in his left hand. He looked up at the red-headed JAG lawyer in front of him, frowned. She smiled.

With a deep breath, he began to write. And in his mind, he could only think of one card that explained his actions.

_The Devil._

*~*~*

**A/N: **So I have no running water in my house, I had 3 hours of sleep, half of my living room is flooded underneath the remaining floorboards, there aren't any in my dining room, and there's a giant industrial fan. My entire house smells like chemicals. Ah, the joys of waking up on the wrong side of the bed.

Anyway, there's only an epilogue left, and then I'll start on the sequel.

Sigh. I'm hungry and I need to wash my hair. Maybe Katie'll let me steal her house for a while.


	9. Epilogue: This Could Last Forever

"_You gotta learn to say, 'Forget the world,' and hold on to the people you love most."_

_~Cloverfield~_

*~*~*

_We were boxing_

_We were boxing the stars_

_We were boxing (we were boxing)_

_You were swinging for Mars_

_And then the water reached the West Coast_

_And took the power lines (the power lines)_

_And it was me and you (this could last forever)_

_And the whole town under water_

_There was nothing we could do_

_It was dark blue_

_~Dark Blue – Jack's Mannequin~_

*~*~*

_6 Months Later…_

*~*~*

Demokritos Kazan was sentenced to the death penalty within a week. Despite the fact that his lawyer tried to plead that he was mentally ill, the fact that he killed 16 girls under the age of 18, and murdered 2 federal agents made everyone lose sympathy with him in less than a second.

There was too much evidence against him. And he admitted without hesitation that he had killed them.

His excuse for killing Agent Michael was that she had killed his brother.

When asked why he had killed Agent David, he had no answer.

Everyone knew he did it. There was no way to redeem himself.

*~*~*

Christine "Chris" Kellan resigned from the FBI and transferred to NCIS. She was given Ziva's place on the team.

Ryan replaced her on the FBI Homicide Division.

She never tried to replace Ziva. She just tried to do the best she could, to do things that she was never able to do at the FBI.

A month after joining NCIS, plans for _something_ began to appear on her desk, and she would often be caught in the middle of phone calls to companies and banks, asking for donations.

3 months after Elizabeth Michael and Ziva David were murdered, a marble memorial wall appeared in front of the NCIS building, with the names of the two women who had died that day, along with the names of the agents who had died before them; Chris Pacci, Kate Todd, Paula Cassidy, Jenny Shepard, Brent Langer, and Michelle Lee, to name a few.

In less than 2 hours, flowers began to cover the area around the memorial.

Chris never said a word about it.

*~*~*

Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan's stories were one and the same, if anything.

After a particularly emotional case, they would somehow end up in the same place, joking occasionally about the similarities between _Romeo and Juliet _and _West Side Story, _trying to figure out if their story was like a movie.

Booth said if anything, it was like _X-Files._

Brennan had no idea what that meant.

The two of them ended up watching their own marathon of _X-Files._

The look of understanding on Brennan's face was startling.

And during the days spent watching the show, despite numerous other obligations, somehow during the conversations and inside jokes, both of them very slowly admitted they were in love. Nothing more, nothing less. At least that's what they said.

5 months after the incident with Kazan, they were engaged.

*~*~*

Wendell Bray graduated at the top of his class, and eventually landed a job at the Jeffersonian. He never did explain why he stayed there.

*~*~*

Anthony DiNozzo managed not to go into a mental breakdown, as expected. Unless you count getting a tattoo of his deceased fiancée's name in Hebrew on one arm, with the dates of her birth and death in English, and angel wings on either side, and his daughter's name, along with her birthday and the _Apatura Iris _butterfly.

Nobody made any comment about the fact that the tough, masculine Tony had gotten a butterfly tattoo. It was just another part of him, after a while.

The change he went through became evident soon enough, when he stopped flirting with every woman he met, and in fact stopped flirting all together. He admitted that Ziva David was the last person he would ever truly be in love with.

His attention turned to his daughter, Iris, whom he decided should keep her mother's surname. The girl was extremely intelligent, and aside from brilliant blue-green eyes, looked exactly like her mother. Her personality was a mix of both Ziva's and Tony's.

*~*~*

Jethro Gibbs retired 2 months after The Day, as it was known. After losing so many people, he wouldn't have been able to handle losing anyone else. Ziva was the straw that broke the camel's back. His only request was that Tony became the supervising agent.

The last time anyone saw him, he was living on a beach in Mexico.

*~*~*

Ducky Mallard, who was older than Gibbs and should have retired several years earlier, retired to a quiet town in England, and found a job as a psychologist. Nobody was sure what happened after that, except that Palmer became the Chief Medical Examiner.

*~*~*

Everything changed that day. Some things were for the better, some for worse.

But there is survival, and there is death. For the most part, the people who hadn't died that day chose survival.

And they lived.

*~*~*

**A/N: **Done! And I have running water in my house again! And now I have to come up with the playlist for the sequel.

Hope you liked this.


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